


Your Hand in Mine

by kakotheres



Series: Just Write! Fluff Bingo 2019 [10]
Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 11:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19991779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakotheres/pseuds/kakotheres
Summary: Kurt thinks about the many different hands that he has held, how they've affected his life, and how well Sebastian knows him.





	Your Hand in Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Just Write! Discord server, Fluff Bingo 2019.  
> Prompt: Holding Hands.

Kurt had held many hands over the course of his life.

When she was alive, Kurt’s mom would often hold his hand with one of hers while using the other to point out something beautiful in the world around her. Kurt would wrap his small fingers around her, his eyes following her gaze and trying to see things the way that she did. She was always a very tactile person – a hand ruffling his hair as she walked by, a hug as soon as he walked in the door when he got home from school. His father was never much of one for holding hands. But Kurt’s mother…Kurt had so many memories of his hand in hers, standing by her side and trying to copy everything about her. She was always the one to find the first flowers of spring peeking up in their garden after a gray Ohio winter. Her small, soft hands were often covered in streaks of paint, remnants of a morning spent trying to catch the beauty she saw on canvas. When she had died, she’d taken that beauty with her. Kurt’s world had crumbled to pieces with the loss of her.

At her funeral, he was lost and alone in a gray, confusing world. He knew he would never again feel her fingers clasped around his own. His hands were empty. He wasn’t sure how he was expected to keep going, without the comforting touch that his mother had always provided. He loved his father dearly, but the man wasn’t much of one for expressing emotion and affection. Kurt wasn’t sure that he could survive without that tenderness of his mother, helping to guide him through the world. He stood by her grave, adrift.

But then, his father had reached out, and grasped Kurt’s small, childish hand, engulfing it in his own. The strength and power in those hands brought a sense of safety and comfort. They were calloused from so many years spent submerged in the engines of countless cars. Holding his father’s hand was such a different experience to that of holding his mother’s, yet it was exactly what he had needed on that terrible day. For weeks after, Kurt had constantly reached out for that strength and comfort, relying on it to keep him grounded. And every time, his father had been there, ready to offer him whatever support he needed. As he had grown older, he had often found it difficult to express his thoughts and feelings to his father in words. The two of them often spoke past each other, even when they were doing their best to communicate. But in this, in the communication of a simple touch, a hug, a palm on the shoulder, the two of them understood each other.

When his father had his heart attack, Kurt has held his hand through the night at the hospital, fear and anger and guilt raging through his body. The hand beneath his felt fragile, nothing like that of the man who had less than a day ago been chastising him for not making time for family night, for not valuing their time together. Now, faced with his father lying in a hospital bed, he wished he could go back in time and change everything about that conversation in the garage. His world had gone gray at the loss of his mother. At the possible loss of his father, it had completely stopped spinning. Kurt had sat by the hospital bed, head bent, his father’s hand so carefully held in his own, fingers coiled to avoid the line of the IV. It had been all he could do to let that hand go, to continue to go to school and listen to the others in Glee who didn’t understand, who wanted to be involved but didn’t want to listen to what he needed. He didn’t need prayers, or songs, or blame. He just needed his rock back. When he had felt his father’s fingers squeeze gently back, his world had finally started spinning again.

Blaine had first held his hand in the hallways of Dalton, dragging him to see an impromptu performance of the Warblers. It had been exciting, another boy his age voluntarily touching him, the lack of pain in the contact a depressingly surprising thing. It’s ironic, perhaps, how that memory is now tainted by pain, spoiled by all the events that had come after. Once upon a time, their relationship had been everything he could have dreamed of. He had someone who cared for him, who saw him during a time when he felt himself disappearing, who had helped to pull him out and save him. But the test of time hadn’t served them well. Gentle leading had turned into control and possession, assuming he would always follow where he was told. He became a secondary character in his own life until he had finally found the strength to break free.

He had been living the single life in New York for a few years when a chance meeting with an old rival had changed the course of his life, as cliché as that sounded. If there was one hand that Kurt would never have imagined holding, it was Sebastian’s. Back in high school, he had hated the other boy for the threat he had posed to a relationship that was all Kurt had. But after watching that relationship crash and burn, Kurt had been more open to finding out how Sebastian had changed. And over coffee and dinner and the occasional walk in Central Park, Kurt had come to know and fall in love with the man that Sebastian had grown to be.

Sebastian holds Kurt’s hand all the time. He takes Kurt’s hand as they walk down the street, keeping Kurt close to his side as they navigate their way back home after a dinner out. He reaches back and gently clasps it as Kurt passes by his desk on the way to bed, leaving Sebastian to another long night of creating case briefs and reading through his law textbooks. He grabs his hand to pull him in for a kiss, cutting Kurt off from yet another rant about how his newest assistant still doesn’t seem to understand the difference between calico and canvas fabrics. Sebastian will often entangle their fingers together when they’re sitting on the couch watching a sad movie. He knows that Kurt doesn’t want his attention pulled away from what’s happening on the screen, but he hates seeing him cry. He takes Kurt’s hand to remind him that he’s there.

And the other night, Sebastian held Kurt’s hand as he sank down to one knee, pulling a small black box from his pocket. Sebastian’s proposal had been a quiet, intimate affair that Kurt had known was coming. Sebastian had left the receipt for the jewelry store tucked in the front pocket of his jeans – a move that he would later swear was pre-planned. Kurt had come across it when he was sorting the laundry. Sebastian claimed he had meant for Kurt to find it because he knew Kurt well enough to know that he liked the idea of surprises but didn’t actually enjoy not knowing what was coming. Kurt hated to admit it, but Sebastian was right. He loved the concept of a romantic surprise, but the reality of being caught off guard was extremely anxiety-producing. Sebastian had found a way to walk the line between those two contradictory sides of his lover and had arranged a proposal that was everything Kurt could have wanted.

The proposal had come after a delicious dinner, courtesy of Sebastian. It was just the two of them, alone in their apartment in the East Village. Inside the box had been two simple, thin bands. Kurt had reached out and run the tip of his finger over the top of the two rings, a question on the edge of his lips.

“I know it’s not exactly traditional,” Sebastian had said. “but I wanted us both to be wearing proof. I’m asking you to marry me, but it goes both ways. We’d be engaged to each other…We should both have rings. Now, are you going to answer me anytime soon, or should I just continue kneeling here on the floor?”

What else could Kurt do but to reach down and take his hand, pulling Sebastian to his feet and kissing him deeply. “Yes, yes I’ll marry you,” he had whispered quietly as Sebastian had taken his hand, sliding the ring up his finger. Kurt had taken the second ring out of the box and slid it onto Sebastian’s waiting hand, their heads bent together. Once the rings were settled in their proper place, Sebastian had brought their hands together, metal clinking faintly together as their fingers intertwined.

“I love you, Kurt. There’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.”

“Love you too, Bas.”


End file.
